


How Can You See Into My Eyes Like Open Doors?

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Series: The "Xanatos Lives! (Evanescence)" 'Verse [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Consent is Sexy!, Coronet, F/M, M/M, Obi-Wan the Virgin, The Good Old Rescued-From-Ruffians-By-Qui-Gon's-Evil-Ex-Apprentice Trick, What Happens on Corellia Stays on Corellia, Xanatos Lives!, Xanatos is a Shit Driver, Xanatos the Stalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 20:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a weekend of furlough on Coronet, Corellia's lush, and somewhat dodgy, capital city, Obi-Wan gets more than he bargained for when Xanatos rescues him from some ruffians, and then offers him a place to stay for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Can You See Into My Eyes Like Open Doors?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CannibalisticPsychiatrist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalisticPsychiatrist/gifts).



> This 'fic! I started it pretty much as soon as I finished the last one, and all of the requisite scenes have been percolating in my head for quite some time, but IDK, it was a bear to get it all out. (In its defense, it's pretty long, though.) In any case, I'm excited to have put the finishing touches on it in the midst of an otherwise IRL-productive weekend (we're heading to a wedding - hey, that rhymes! - in the next few hours, as it stands - and, well, there you go.
> 
> This takes place in 'my' "Xanatos Lives!" 'fic universe over on AO3 (aaahh! I have universes!), which will probably encompass at least two other standalone stories. (There's more Xanatos/Obawan in the pipeline, too; it, Xanatos is kind of the Pietro of Star Wars for me - I can never get enough of the guy.) This one is dedicated to cannibalistic-psychiatrist over on Tumblr/AO3/FF-dot-net, for being awesome. (Also, check out HER amazeballs X/O fairy tale AU, "Grimm.") Title comes from Evanescence's "Bring Me to Life," as promised in the author's notes of this story's prequel (sorry! I know, it's terrible!).Also, in the first/previous story, Obi-Wan is about 15-16, but here, he's legal (19), sooo you know. Warning: Some semi-graphic depictions of violence by original male characters. Also, be warned for discussion of rape (though it is made clear that everything happens involves two complicit adults, natch.)

It was a strange thing to cop to, perhaps, but Obi-Wan Kenobi really loved the bustle and noise of large cities. As Qui-Gon Jinn's third Padawan, he had always privately felt as though he should follow in his Master's footsteps in as many ways as possible; as Qui-Gon seemed to particularly enjoy rural areas - wide expanses of open plains; lush gardens; foliage - it seemed only right for Obi-Wan to also enjoy those sorts of places. And he did. All the same, however, he had begun, by the time he was officially no longer a teenager, to appreciate not only that he, unlike Qui-Gon, was not particularly strong in the Living Force, but also that, aside from a typical Jedi-like appreciation for the natural beauty of Alderaan, the artistry of the lush flora of Naboo, to him, true beauty was evidence of endless, thriving civilization.

Such was the reason he had chosen Corellia as the location for his mandated furlough, a short period of (required) rest and relaxation built into his yearly schedule by the Jedi Council. In the past, he had simply tagged along after Qui-Gon, given that the Council generally saw fit to offer a Master and Padawan team the same vacation time - once an apprentice had surpassed his own personal Indulgence Day, she or he was allowed additional autonomy, and Obi-Wan had, though he had yet to exercise his newfound independence, having enjoyed the chance to spend time with Qui-Gon in a semi-relaxed environment as he had now a couple of times. This year, however, Qui-Gon had mumbled something over breakfast a week or so ago about making the bulk of his own break time into a meditative retreat - it had been some time since Master Tahl had died, and yet, Obi-Wan strongly suspected that the entire reason for the retreat was Qui-Gon's way of acknowledging and honoring her memory in a way he had been yet unable to in the months that had passed since her passing - and Obi-Wan had decided to make his own way for the first time. Thus, he had hitched a ride to Corellia - specifically, to Coronet, the pleasure planet's capital city - and was currently enjoying the weekend night-life; until, of course, he wasn't.

The sudden surge of danger in the Force was jarring; here, in the seediest and centermost portion of the city, there were many emotions swirling around him, including plenty of nebulous ones, but none distinctly geared towards harming a nineteen-year-old Jedi Padawan (and a rather young-looking one, at that)until ... "Well, now, look what we have here." The three men might have been Corellian natives, or simply ruffians from another system looking for a fight. The one who had spoken to Obi-Wan had rough-looking tattoos on the sides of his face and down his neck, and probably some other places, as well; likewise, his two similarly humanoid companions both grinned compulsively, their eyes sweeping Obi-Wan's lithe, soft-looking frame. "Any chance you've got any spare change, friend?"

"I'm sorry, I really don't." He had a handful of credits, of course, enough to purchase himself a couple of essentials for the weekend (lodging, food); all the same, Qui-Gon had taught him to be wary of being taken in by the sob stories of panhandlers, though these particular men seemed quite a lot more malicious than the average beggar. "Excuse me," the young man mumbled, and made an attempt to duck his head and move around the ringleader, giving him a wide berth; however, he was quick to learn that it was not his destiny for the evening to get out of this matter unscathed. 

Before he knew it, he was surrounded on all sides, flanked far too closely for comfort by the three burly men, all of whom were significantly taller than him. One reached out and knowingly plucked his lightsaber from its holster. "Hey!" he gasped, and another fingered his braid a bit. "I don't know if you're really a Jedi or not, boy," the ringleader mused, stroking his stubbled chin while the other two proceeded to manhandle Obi-Wan a bit; "but either way, I think we'll be confiscating this." Obi-Wan made a grab for his filched weapon, but the man dangled it well out of his reach, grinning smugly. Then, as Obi-Wan began to summon the Force for a little reconnaissance-cum-retaliation, he was caught off-guard by one of the other men clobbering him from behind. Down he went, yelping as he hit the ground hard. Rearing up, he began to kick at the ringleader's legs, hoping to imbalance him, but then his lightsaber was activated (not by him), and then the blade was being pointed at his throat. 

"Calm down, little Jedi." The man's beady eyes flashed angrily at him, nostrils flaring wide. Behind him, the other men grabbed Obi-Wan by the arms, hauling him into a standing position. Once more, he attempted to kick at the ringleader, but it was for naught. "Should I just cut your leg off so you won't try that again? Or are Jedi just stupid enough to think that the third time they piss off an armed opponent is the charm?" Still holding Obi-Wan's light-up 'saber, the ringleader's tattooed arms and neck gleamed in the bright blue light. "Or maybe we'll do it slowly," he suggested.

The feeling of the blade pressed against (sizzling) flesh was extraordinarily painful. "Aaahh! Stop! P-please stop," Obi-Wan gasped, fingers wiggling, but his lower body was in immense pain, coalescing in one spot along the Padawan's upper thigh (his leggings were now quite effectively ripped/burned through), and he couldn't summon up enough self-control to manipulate the Force to his whims. He jerked and twitched, breath hitching, but still, the man did not stop. "I wonder how long it will take to amputate all of your limbs like this?" Obi-Wan gagged and sobbed, tears welling in his eyes from the sheer agony of it. "An hour?" The ringleader's pointy canines were showing as he grinned. "Two? Well, settle in, Jedi, because I, for one, have got all ni-"

The sound of a second lightsaber activating caused all four of them to jump. Likewise, while the ringleader did not so much as drop Obi-Wan's own lightsaber, the hissing noise did, at last, cause him to momentarily stop torturing the young man. Craning his neck around one of the other men's shoulders, Obi-Wan could make out the sharp lines of a dark-colored cloak, as well as black hair, and ... no, he thought suddenly, it wasn't possible ...

... and yet, there he was, in the flesh, looking much the same as he had the last time they'd met up - unfortunately, under circumstances that were too close to the one at present for Obi-Wan to feel much comforted yet - some three years ago now. "Gentlemen," Xanatos de Crion murmured, blue eyes flashing the same shade as Obi-Wan's and, by some coincidence, his own lightsaber's blades, "it appears we have something of a predicament. You seem to be roughing up my young acquaintance here, and that is most displeasing to me." 

The ringleader growled, further baring his teeth. "What's it to you?" he queried, though his voice quavered; obviously he had not expected to take on a fully-armed and ready (ex-)Jedi, and, Obi-Wan had to admit, Xanatos made for a fairly intimidating opponent. "What will you give me to let him go?" the other man asked, and Xanatos cocked his head, long, dark hair spilling across one shoulder almost playfully.

"How about this: I let you keep your pathetic life this night."

Miraculously, the other man appeared to have a sudden change of heart then and there. "Heh. Didn't mean anything by it. Honest." Sufficiently spooked now, it seemed, the ringleader snapped his fingers a little, and Obi-Wan suddenly felt himself falling. Once more, he began to flail ... and then Xanatos, once again, cut in, spreading his fingers in the young man's direction. Suddenly, his descent slowed, and when he did make it to the ground, he just sort of slumped, albeit with no added pressure to his now-slack limbs. Leg throbbing - though of course, since the lightsaber blade cauterized the wound it had made, he wasn't actively bleeding, albeit his flesh was badly burned - he watched as the three men took off in the opposite direction of Xanatos, looking back only once before hurrying away in a serpentine pattern, eventually ducking into an alcove. Xanatos smirked - Obi-Wan suspected that the older man could easily have tracked them had he decided to put forth any effort whatsoever to do so - and then his eyes came to rest on the injured Padawan.

"Well, well." Qui-Gon's ex-apprentice's voice was soft, cool. "Fancy running into you here." His gaze lingered on the leg wound until Obi-Wan's hand moved to cover it and he snorted outright. "Didn't know this was a place for nubile young Padawans."

There was little use in lying to Xanatos; the other man knew intimately of matters such as the Order's mandated vacation periods. "I'm on furlough," Obi-Wan explained shortly, teeth gritted against the considerable pain in his limb. He proffered no further information, but of course, Xanatos honed in immediately on the fact that he was, in fact, terribly alone here.

"And I don't suppose the illustrious Qui-Gon Jinn has accompanied you to this sordid pleasure planet for his own prescribed brand of rest and relaxation, now, did he?" Obi-Wan shook his head a little, and Xanatos smirked anew. "No. I thought not." His gaze once again flitted to Obi-Wan's leg. "And I don't suppose you have transport off of this rock until the end of the weekend, at least."

"No." The young man frowned over how utterly predictable he apparently was.

"No? Interesting." Xanatos' tone was placid, though as usual, an undercurrent of danger was promised in its considerable depths. "Well, one possible solution would be for you to accompany me back to my rooms - as luck would have it, I am staying fairly nearby tonight, in the Ruby Sector." Of course, Obi-Wan thought, trust Xanatos to set up camp, so to speak, as far away from the seedy Blue Sector - and in the richest part of the city, nay, the planet, for that matter - as possible. "I'm sure the suite I'm paying exorbitantly for would more than accommodate two people. What do you say, Obi-Wan?"

"No, thank you." Still splayed on the ground, the young man's answer was near-immediate, the product of hard-won experience more than current logic. "I don't think willingly shacking up with the very person who kidnapped me for sport three years ago would be all that great of a career move," he added, and Xanatos raised a demure eyebrow.

"Suit yourself." The older man tossed one side of his long mane over his shoulder. "I'm sure Qui-Gon won't mind being interrupted to come and rescue you." Satisfied that he had made his point, Xanatos began walking away, Obi-Wan's annoyed, muttered, "thank you for your concern" succeeding only in making the ex-Jedi bite back a grin, his face already turned in the opposite direction. Of his own predicament, Obi-Wan was vaguely optimistic; the men had not robbed him, after all, merely crippled his leg a little temporarily. It would be a simple enough matter to stand up and - "OH," he gasped, and down he went anew, clutching his hurt limb. Pain shot through the extremity, though, ever the consummate Jedi, he clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his surprised hiss of pain. No one, passerby or otherwise, seemed to notice him either way; no one, that was, except ...

"That will get you quite far, I'm sure of it." Stooping, Xanatos began reaching towards Obi-Wan; instinctively, the young man curled in on himself, and this time, Xanatos did outright roll his eyes. "I have no intentions of hurting you tonight, brat, kidnapping or otherwise," he said, and his voice - not to mention, the slightly annoyed flash in his harsh blue eyes - hinted that, in fact, he was absolutely telling the truth. "But I am taking you with me." With but a small effort, the older man had Obi-Wan cradled against his chest like an oversized doll, albeit in a surprisingly comfortable fashion for both of them. To help, Obi-Wan reluctantly hooked an arm over Xanatos' shoulders, wincing at the movements required by his hurt leg. "Be brave, little Jedi." Xanatos' voice was somewhat mocking now, though not entirely unsympathetic; below, his left arm hooked underneath both of Obi-Wan's knees, drawing the Padawan close - their hearts beat near one another, Obi-Wan's somewhat faster, likely due both to his injury and frazzled nerves. "You're in my hands, now."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Obi-Wan muttered, but if Xanatos could feel the relief emanating from him through the Force, he was kind enough, surprisingly, not to say anything about it one way or another.

*

 

The trip back to the Ruby Sector was rather brief, thanks largely in part to Xanatos' (reckless, Obi-Wan felt) driving. When he'd been kidnapped three years back, forcibly taken from Qui-Gon's side during a training exercise, to add insult to injury (though at the time, he had not been injured, to be sure, merely drugged, the [sharp; he had winced/cried out, of course] pinprick of the needle at the back of his neck felling him before he even had a chance to ascertain what had happened), the older man had bundled Obi-Wan into the back of his small, expensive cruiser, tethering him in the cargo hold with binders at both the wrists and ankles, and a thin, black, probably expensive scarf wrapped tightly around his head, blocking him from seeing his surroundings. He'd woken up mid-journey, and had been startled when Xanatos had knelt before him, undoing the blindfold and beaming as the Padawan's eyes had struggled to adjust to the sudden influx of light. At the time, he had seemed bemused by Obi-Wan's struggling, even the few adolescent threats he had tossed off in a pique of adolescent anger and frustration, and, when he seemed to think the boy's protests had grown tiring, had simply smirked and rewound the scarf around Obi-Wan's head, this time using it as a gag. After that, Obi-Wan did not see him again until they'd landed wherever Xanatos had piloted them to, upon which the blindfold was swiftly reconverted, and Xanatos had plucked the boy from the ground and carried him, with surprising strength, as he had again this night, princess-style to a new locale; there, Obi-Wan's wrists had been chained to the ceiling, arms tugged high above his head, displaying him, rumpled and annoyed, for what had seemed to be Xanatos' considerable pleasure; until, of course, Xanatos had abandoned him completely for several hours to the darkness of the glorified storage room, and then tried to kill him by way of detonating a small slavers' device on his person after Qui-Gon had arrived, besides. The whole incident had left Obi-Wan confused, and even now, some three years down the road, he honestly couldn't say precisely what Xanatos' intentions were when it came to him; naturally, too, the lack of knowledge was almost worse than the fact that these sorts of interactions happened at all. Almost.

This time, Obi-Wan was not a prisoner, per se, though he still felt rather manhandled as Xanatos leaned over him, taking his time to strap the young man into the passenger seat, pausing momentarily to playfully pat the Padawan's cheek. "You've grown since I've seen you last," he murmured, and when their gazes met and even seared a little, Obi-Wan was the first to look away, recasting his glance downwards until he could sense that Xanatos had stopped smirking directly into his line of vision. "Manhood is appealing on you, Obi-Wan."

"Um. Thanks." There was something to be said for the fact that, of course, had any of Xanatos' previous plans to do away with Qui-Gon's third apprentice actually worked, impending adulthood would be the last thing on Obi-Wan's (expired) mind at the moment, but he was tired and injured and thus, not quite up to his usual level of discriminating snark. Still, he managed to frown significantly when Xanatos suddenly gripped at his chin, moving their faces alarmingly close.

"Don't mention it." There was a moment when Xanatos seemed to be gearing up to do something more - to plunder Obi-Wan's mouth with his tongue, perhaps - but it eventually passed. Still smiling, the ex-Jedi closed the passenger side speeder door for Obi-Wan, and then loped back around to the driver's side by way of the front of the vehicle, albeit in swift, fluid movements. The vehicle - red, small, obviously expensive - purred easily to life with but a wave of Xanatos' hand ("it's coded to my Force signature; don't even need a key card," he bragged to Obi-Wan upon noticing the young man's curious gaze, and Obi-Wan nodded shortly), and conformed closely to Xanatos' many quick, tight maneuvers. Still, Xanatos took turns too fast for Obi-Wan's liking, and occasionally would drop out of the sky without warning, content to weave drastically between other vehicles when he decided, perhaps, that they were going too slowly and methodically for his liking, and Obi-Wan tutted a few times under his breath before the older man snorted, the profile of his face showcasing the bemused smirk turning up at least one corner of his mouth.

"Qui-Gon never liked my driving either. Always said it was too reckless."

"Because it is." Obi-Wan's face was pinched, though that was partially because of the long burn along his leg.

"Hmm." Xanatos' jaw was relaxed, in spite of the criticism. His nonchalant attitude eventually filtered through the Force across the vehicle to his car-mate, and Obi-Wan reluctantly let go of the oh-shit bar, letting it wash over him. "Thank you," he murmured quietly after some time, and Xanatos turned his face briefly, arching one aristocratic eyebrow, still smirking.

"For what?"

"You know." Obi-Wan vacillated slowly, yet noisily, through his nose. "For rescuing me. You didn't have to."

"I know."

Obi-Wan did sigh at that. "What are you doing on Corellia this weekend, anyways?"

Here, Xanatos' smile deepened considerably, taking on a definitively more sinister tinge. "I may have been tracking your Force signature and progress around the city," he proffered after sniggering quietly for a long moment, and Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up in legitimate outrage.

"What!" He gaped open-mouthed at the ex-Jedi, appalled at Xanatos' unmitigated gall. "I just. WHY?"

"Why not?" Xanatos' steely gaze had softened now as he gazed, almost fondly, at Obi-Wan, though his blue eyes were as piercing and impressive as ever. "Perhaps I just like to make sure you're still all right," he added, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, arms already crossed tightly over his chest.

"That would be almost sweet if it wasn't incredibly creepy and inappropriate." More snickering. "So your plan is seriously just to offer me shelter while my leg heals during the remainder of my vacation time on-planet? No tricks? No kidnapping plot?" 

Another raised eyebrow greeted him, as well as a short stint of chilled silence from Xanatos. "Correct."

Obi-Wan blinked, confused, and slightly unnerved as well, if he was being honest with himself. "Oh. Okay, then."

Xanatos smiled anew. "Okay, then," he said softly, voice gently mocking, and Obi-Wan sighed and settled against the plush backing of the passenger seat as the other man sped them expertly (yet still recklessly, Obi-Wan thought with a groan) towards their (apparently, to-be-shared) destination.

*

 

Xanatos' rooms were nothing short of epic; naturally, the wealthy son of the late Crion had spared no expense on even a brief stay in Coronet's Ruby Sector, and as a result, his suite in the finest hotel in the area was huge, immaculate, and expensive-looking as fuck. Noting Obi-Wan's gaping a bit, Xanatos' voice rumbled softly near his ear, the older man having acquiesced (again, too easily for Obi-Wan not to be suspicious) to carrying the Padawan from the car: "You like it? The bed spread will look wonderful against your bare skin." At that, Obi-Wan had flushed crimson, which only seemed to make Xanatos chuckle more.

Carried across the room, Obi-Wan, to his dismay, was then deposited directly onto said bed, after which Xanatos proceeded to dig around in the (black, expensive-looking animal hide) utility belt that Obi-Wan just now noticed hung around his slim waist, hidden carefully beneath his other dark, slightly billowy clothing. The distinctly Jedi-like artifact made him smile ruefully, in spite of himself. Xanatos, not seeming to notice this (or at least, not bothering to acknowledge it), tugged out what Obi-Wan recognized as a small container of bacta, and also a roll of bandages; when his gaze refocused on Obi-Wan a minute or so later, it was largely aimed at the Padawan's injured leg. "Pants off," he ordered briefly, and Obi-Wan started. "Unless you want I should just slice that part of your leggings off altogether," the older man sighed, put upon, now, and Obi-Wan reluctantly began undoing the laces of his boots. Xanatos watched him fiddle for several seconds, but when a sharp thrust in an attempt to tug the boot off of the heel of his injured leg caused Obi-Wan to wince, the ex-Jedi frowned at him. "Honestly," he muttered, and pointed; apropos of nothing else, the boot slid the rest of the way off of Obi-Wan's foot.

"Judicious Force use," Obi-Wan frowned, but when his other boot came off as well with the same ease, he just sighed and accepted that this, too, was yet another dubious gift bestowed upon him this evening. Likewise, his standard-issue leggings, the one leg more mottled and useless than anything at this point, though he would need to endure it again in order to get back to the Temple without raising any eyebrows for indecent exposure, came off easily following his boots' removal. And then, Xanatos managed to surprise him yet again by crouching on the expansive bed; facing him, the ex-Jedi bent and began liberally applying the bacta to the mess of a burn wound along Obi-Wan's injured leg; almost immediately, the skin began to knit itself back together, and Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. "It's fast-acting," Xanatos informed him; and then, "Offworld used to produce it, of course."

"Of course." It was impressive to think of Xanatos' home-grown business empire as doing anything remotely good with its vast reach; all the same, however, it would be just like Xanatos to corner the market on an updated form of pain medication technology, and then sit on it like a benevolent dictator until just the right price came along. Obi-Wan wanted to say something to this effect, but the pain in his leg was nearly gone, now, and in its place, gratitude for his now-uninjured, fully functioning body bloomed. "Thank you," he said sincerely instead, and watched Xanatos lazily float the small bit of medical supplies onto a nearby end table. 

"Don't mention it."

Silence reigned for a while after that. Neither of them spoke, though Xanatos now stood at parade-rest near the bed, facing the young man. Finally, Obi-Wan had to know: "Did ... you didn't intentionally send those men after me in order to put yourself in a position to rescue me, did you, Xanatos?"

For the second time that evening, Xanatos' bemusement was tinged with annoyance. "While that would be an impressive, and not impossible, bit of subterfuge, no, I did not." His face was not ugly when he was angry, though his eyes seemed to flash with a small bit of malice now as he smiled at Obi-Wan. "I'll have you know that you, my dear little Jedi apprentice, are quite capable of getting captured or otherwise assaulted or roughed up without any help from me whatsoever." He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Obi-Wan with a haughty, son-of-Crion stare. "That being said, it's a wonder you've even managed to stay alive this long."

Indignantly, Obi-Wan hopped up from where he'd been placed atop the mattress, foregoing dignity via his current pantslessness in favor of trying to make his point. "And what about you?" he demanded suddenly, eyes boring into Xanatos', though he had to crane his neck a bit to make it happen. "What's the secret of your miraculous reincarnation, anyways?"

"Not reincarnation; merely an optical illusion, designed to get you and Qui-Gon off of my back for a while, until I was ready to contend with you again. Too boring even to thoroughly explain." Xanatos' face was once again placid. "It's true, though, Obi-Wan: Your charming personality, more than anything else, seems to account for the majority of your troubles: With me. With those men. Even with dead ex-Padawans. How is Bruck Chun's family, by the way?"

"Fuck you." With that, Obi-Wan grabbed up his pants and boots, and, in spite of his previous disgust at Xanatos' 'judicious' use of the Force to remove them, slid the ripped trousers on hastily and then his shoes, fastening them by merely wiggling his fingers. "I'm leaving," he announced, and made his way towards the door across the moderately-sized suite. He reached it quickly, having stomped across the brief expanse with angry, wide steps, and reached for the door handle. When it did not yield to him, he turned and glowered at the other man. "Unlock the door, Xanatos. I wish to leave."

"No." 

Obi-Wan's gaze grew even more furious. "I'm not playing around, Xanatos!"

"Neither am I." The other man waved a hand, however, and Obi-Wan could hear the door locking further (jamming, now, perhaps?) with the aid of the Force. Panic prickling up his spine (he'd claimed no secret kidnapping plots, had he not?! Obi-Wan thought frantically, a surge of annoyance crashing between the two men via the Force), the Padawan watched as Xanatos made his own way steadily across the room, boots moving in heavy, yet silent footfalls along the carpet, a testament both to the hotel's use of such thick padding beneath the rug, as well as to Xanatos' general stealthiness. "Don't leave," he murmured, coming to stop just in front of Obi-Wan, who was fairly shaking now in frustration and anger. "I'm sorry, all right? I didn't mean to chase you away. After all," he said with a too-easy grin plastered across his face once more, "I've gone to great lengths to get you here, what with stalking you halfway across the galaxy and back and all."

"This isn't helping you to make your case," Obi-Wan said gruffly. 

"Isn't it?" Xanatos' gaze was thoughtful as he seemed to consider Obi-Wan's words. "Well, then, how about this?" he suggested casually; and then, before Obi-Wan could protest or figure out quite what he meant, the older man closed the distance between them entirely, tucked one finger under Obi-Wan's chin to raise it, bent his own face down towards the Padawan's, and captured Obi-Wan's mouth in a firm, distinct kiss.

"Mmm!" Obi-Wan 'said,' in shock that things had come to, well, this. More to the point, he was horrified to find that, well, he rather liked it. Xanatos' mouth on his was simultaneously warm, yet froze him in place; the older man's lips were soft yet firm, the tongue that pressed with limited difficulty between Obi-Wan's teeth, eventually caressing his own, obviously experienced in such matters, a pleasant surprise. It was hardly Obi-Wan's fault, then, that he sort of fell into it, that he allowed himself to be drawn into the circle of Xanatos' long, firm arms - even the small moan that escaped from deep down as Xanatos broke the kiss and trailed his mouth wetly and hot down the side of Obi-Wan's face, eventually suckling his neck and, ever so gently, biting at the racing pulse visible at his throat was hardly something he could be blamed for, though of course, he made a last-ditch effort to break free of the sudden, unwitting temptation, ever Qui-Gon's dutiful, ascetic Padawan. "No," he gasped, and pulled away a little; his back brushed against the closed door behind him, and he flailed a little. "I just. We can't, I can't," he amended quickly, but Xanatos' only flashed him a small, seductive, almost lazy smile.

"Are you sure about that? You don't seem to be hating this." The older man's gaze flitted briefly downwards to, Obi-Wan was chagrined to see, his own fledgling erection, which was currently tenting the front of his thin pants. They hadn't been a whole lot of help earlier, what with those men in Coronet's downtown district and all, and it looked as though they were about to be deemed rather useless here, as well. 

In any case, he meant to tell Xanatos off, or if he was feeling particularly eloquent, to calmly school him on the many reasons - MANY! - why they shouldn't, couldn't be doing what Xanatos had just initiated between the two of them. And yet, when the older man drew him close again, tugging him away from the door anew and back into his embrace, Obi-Wan's heart raced, and his mouth opened to protest, but he did not. Instead, when Xanatos' fingers trailed down his cheek, briefly brushing his lips, before tilting the young man's chin upwards so that Obi-Wan could face him, the Padawan's voice quavered as he quietly asked, "Why?"

"Why not?" The elder of the pair gazed fondly down at his younger charge with something approximating affection (or more? Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder). "I think we both know that this was bound to happen eventually, Obi-Wan."

At that, the Padawan made a startled face. "I didn't!" he exclaimed, but Xanatos, once again, chuckled at him in response.

"Really?" The hand that had just been cupping Obi-Wan's face snaked down, gripping suddenly at the bulge in the young man's pants. "You had no preconceptions about this whatsoever?" he asked politely, but Obi-Wan just whimpered. Leaning down, Xanatos kissed him again, this time tugging the short hairs at the back of Obi-Wan's head somewhat in order to give them better leverage. Still feeling heady and confused, in more ways than one, the Padawan gasped at the second intrusion of Xanatos' tongue inside of his mouth, but allowed it, and then, ever so tentatively, began to kiss back. Seeming to take this as consent, Xanatos' own mouth became firmer upon his, and a moment later, the ex-Jedi was walking them both backwards towards the once-abandoned bed. Before they reached it, the older man halted, and then drew a finger down the center of Obi-Wan's chest, towards his utility belt. "Let's get this terribly boring tunic off before one or both of us expires from yawning too much."

"Hey!" Obi-Wan yelped, though it wasn't entirely clear whether the offense was Xanatos' verbal insult, or the fact that he had Obi-Wan's torso bare in about three seconds flat. Squirming under the other man's scrutiny, it took all of the Padawan's Jedi willpower not to cover his naked chest with his arms; his nipples were hard, as evidenced by Xanatos reaching down and tweaking at one of them - and then, the older man smiled wickedly and thumbed at them both, one hand on each, repeatedly until they grew into small, puckered twin nubs. "Nnngh," Obi-Wan bit out, and then Xanatos was turning them around and, with a small shove (possibly Force-enhanced, Obi-Wan had trouble telling for sure), tossed Obi-Wan onto the mattress on his bare back. Removing the Padawan's boots once again via his seemingly trademark judicious Force use, it was only a matter of quick movements later for the young man to be completely nude, save for his Padawan braid and the dinner plate-sized eyes he was currently sporting. 

For his part, Xanatos seemed appreciative. "Well, look at you," he murmured, and Obi-Wan flushed, noticing himself how his cock was jutting up from the bed of dark hairs beneath it, eager for whatever the older man deigned to offer it. Of his own accord, the ex-Jedi began stripping off of his own clothing, dark, rich garments pooling steadily on the floor as he tugged his arms through holes and stepped out of his pants. When the show - and it was, indeed, a show, inasmuch as Obi-Wan had been utterly unable to look away (in point of fact, he had stared, rather rudely, the entire time, drinking in the steady increase in bare skin, enjoying how the tables were now turned, in a sense) - was over, Xanatos stood likewise utterly naked before him. Soft-looking, almost alabaster skin covered leanly muscled limbs and his torso, and the whole thing stood out against a backdrop of billowy, jet-black hair reaching nearly to the older man's waist. Xanatos' cock was also half-hard; Obi-Wan could feel his face burning as his eyes traveled the length. He imagined reaching out to touch it, the precise face Xanatos might make as his thumb wiped across the top of the head ...

... and suddenly, be it because said thoughts were transferring themselves in the most voyeuristic way possible through the Force or simply because Xanatos had grown tired of waiting, the ex-Jedi was upon him, right knee nudging apart Obi-Wan's thighs, a hand brushing down to lightly fist the Padawan's cock. "Oh," Obi-Wan managed, before Xanatos' mouth claimed his in a deep, punishing kiss; he could feel the places where he was going to be bruised, come the next day, and there was something bemusing about that. Still, he managed to stay in the moment, managed to utilize one of Qui-Gon Jinn's most important lessons he'd ever bestowed upon Obi-Wan to ... what? He grew worried suddenly. What was he doing here? How could he even be considering this?

"No," he murmured a moment later, as Xanatos began maneuvering them into a coital position so that he could prepare to take Obi-Wan, legs linked over the other man's shoulders, face-to-face. "NO!" he said more sharply when this did not seem to deter the other man, although the reinforcement of the message - not to mention, the harsh tone - certainly did the trick. 

"What's wrong?" The other man was panting a little, and then propped himself up on his arms. When Obi-Wan refused to cooperate, remaining silent, even crossing his arms, at last, over his chest, Xanatos got off of him completely, perching instead towards the edge of the large bed, covered in a fine, cerulean duvet. Pride seemingly wounded, Xanatos nonetheless kept his cool: "You seemed to want this just fine a moment ago," he began, but Obi-Wan, his patience having worn thin, snapped a terse response in the older man's direction.

"I changed my mind! I, this was a mistake. I should never have agreed to come here." The Padawan was sitting up now, face still flushed, though his erection was slowly but surely losing steam. "I need to go," he said, whining a little; but to his great surprise, it was Xanatos who stood up first, nodding (tersely; it was obvious how difficult it had been for the older man to reign in his passion so quickly, though he had done it just the same) his agreement. Obi-Wan then watched as the ex-Jedi began picking up his own clothing again, and started to redress. 

"What are you -"

"Leaving." Xanatos' voice was dark, angry now. "This room is paid for through the weekend; leave the key card on the desk when you're finished with it. No worries about tipping, it's all taken care of. Enjoy your furlough, alone." Obi-Wan continued to watch, dumbfounded, as Xanatos clothed himself anew, albeit in brisk, barely perfunctory movements. It would have been enough to simply let the other man walk out the door, of course - he wasn't paying Obi-Wan for his services, after all, nor was the young man being forced to stay there under duress - and yet, just before Xanatos disappeared from sight completely, right after the knob had begun to turn ...

"Xanatos. Wait." Obi-Wan's voice was small, ashamed. Turning, Xanatos eyed the Padawan, still nude, albeit having stood and even having made his way about halfway across the room of his own accord. "I'm sorry," the young man said, his tone now contrite. "I didn't mean to, to lead you on. I was just ... surprised, I suppose. I still don't really understand what you see in me, why you keep such a close watch on my goings-ons." Xanatos remained silent, moody, even, and Obi-Wan sighed a little in frustration. "Can you ... stay?" he ventured a moment later, resisting the urge to reach up and fiddle coquettishly with his braid. "Please," he breathed again, and did it anyways, and then watched how Xanatos' pupils seemed to dilate in sudden satisfaction from this simple act. "Please, stay. I don't want to be alone," he bit out, not realizing until that very moment just how true it was; he missed Qui-Gon, but more to the point, he wanted to feel, well, wanted. "I want you here, with me. I ... I want you to fuck me tonight, Xanatos."

The older man exhaled a shaky breath, and then another, and then stepped slowly, and more tentatively than usual, for him, forward, towards Obi-Wan. "Do you know what you're asking for?" Xanatos rasped, and Obi-Wan privately thought that he could feel the ex-Jedi's arousal seeping from him, making its way across the Force, permeating the area around them both. It made him feel brave, bold. Smiling a little, the Padawan let his hands fall to his sides, giving Xanatos a full view of his renewed arousal.

"Do you?" Gauntlet: Thrown.

And how. Stalking across the space between them took no time at all, and then Xanatos was in his personal space again, though this time, Obi-Wan had some semblance of lust of his own to contribute. Their mouths met once more, and, this time, seared; neither Padawan nor ex-Padawan was particularly gentle, either in their ministrations of the other's already-bare form (Xanatos) or Obi-Wan's hurried re-removal of Xanatos' clothing. In no time at all, the older man was nude and grinding against Obi-Wan, although it seemed as though he hesitated just before he was set to press the young man against the mattress anew and set to ravishing him. "What is it? What's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked when Xanatos' hands (and mouth, oh, his mouth) stilled, suddenly fearful that this had, in fact, been some sort of ulterior motive or trick all along. 

And then, Xanatos clarified: "How do I know you won't change your mind again? I've been many things, Obi-Wan, but I'm not a rapist. I have no interest in forcing myself upon an unwilling participant." Pinioning the Padawan to the mattress, and yet, held away and aloof by balancing his upper body on his hands, the ex-Jedi's gaze and Obi-Wan's met. "So you have to tell me one way or the other that you truly want this." Xanatos' voice was very nearly hoarse, now. "Because I was barely able to stop the last time, and if you're just going to cocktease and then run away in tears, then I'm not going to go through all of the trouble to court a karking child, so make your choice and make it no-"

As it turned out, Xanatos wasn't the only one between them who could effectively silence the other by interrupting their speechifying with a kiss. "That's not an answer ..." Xanatos rasped, growling a little once Obi-Wan had let go of his face, but the young man's hands tangled next in his long, thick, free-flowing hair and tugged him down once more. "Is this a satisfactory enough answer?" Obi-Wan hissed, then, and Xanatos very nearly squirmed from the Padawan's reaching between them, in order to grip both of their cocks simultaneously. "I'm hard," Obi-Wan whispered, and Xanatos' face was that of a man facing a struggle of epic proportions - in this case, to fuck, or not to fuck the young man he'd been veritably obsessed with since Obi-Wan was all of thirteen. As if on cue, the Padawan grinned, their eyes meeting, Xanatos' almost wary gaze boring into Obi-Wan's now-mischievous one. "And I'm all of nineteen, so if you don't give in now, it's entirely possible that the option won't be on the table much longer, perhaps five or ten minutes if you're lucky, so you'd better think fas-"

"Enough." The tone may have implied finality, but, to Obi-Wan's relief, Xanatos seemed to use the sudden silence between them as ammunition simply to shove him down against the mattress the rest of the way, settling atop him heavily, legs tangling together a little. It didn't hurt, but Obi-Wan gasped and writhed all the same, though he allowed Xanatos to capture his wrists above his head, locking them together with the fingers of one hand (his own). "So beautiful." The older man's voice was smooth, deadly; on any other occasion, it might have appeared that Xanatos was sizing him up, ostensibly to prey upon the nubile Padawan, perhaps to send him to another underwater mining facility as slave labor. And yet, Obi-Wan could sense that, on this evening, for whatever reason - his desperate need not to feel alone, just for one night, perhaps; or maybe Xanatos, too, had some more pressing need than revenge for trying so hard to keep him here - the other man's attention was a far cry from yet another stock revenge scheme. He knew it, and he knew that Xanatos knew that he knew it, and that was really all that needed to be exchanged between them in the end before Xanatos finally, blissfully allowed them to go further, deeper, together.

The young man's legs were drawn into their originally intentioned position, though when Obi-Wan hissed a little as a surprise bolt of pain shot up his recently injured limb - apparently, the bacta couldn't account for everything, at least not after only one application - Xanatos acquiesced to allowing the young man to simply wind his legs around the elder's waist. Lubricant was produced from somewhere - Obi-Wan suspected more judicious Force use and may even have sighed a little, though it did not deter anything, and in fact, merely seemed to make Xanatos grin - and, with a surprisingly gentle hand, was massaged into Obi-Wan's most sensitive region, the space between his ass cheeks, and then up, further, beyond, with Xanatos' long, nimble fingers. "Hmph," Obi-Wan gasped, because it pinched, and Xanatos paused, waiting, seeking permission before he tried again.

"Have you ever -"

"N-no."

"I see." Xanatos' expression was reverent now. "I'll go slow," he promised, and did. Only gradually did one finger turn into two, then three, and then, after scissoring them back and forth several times, adding lubricant after everything grew dry and sticky more than once, and only then did Xanatos align his cockhead with Obi-Wan's ass hole, pressing in with what had to be yet more Force-enhanced movements, though this time, Obi-Wan did not seem to give a wit one way or the other how judiciously used it was, so long as Xanatos' eventual thrusts inside of him all speared perfectly the same sweet spot every time, as they seemed to be doing as of yet, and ... "aaahh, k-kriff, so g-good," Obi-Wan gasped, and very nearly sobbed into Xanatos' mouth when the other man bent to kiss him yet once more. The Padawan's hands, callused from consecutive years of wielding a lightsaber, clutched and clung to Xanatos' shoulders, face, his mane of hair, whatever he could grip, however he could continue to hold on, to stabilize this thing between them that neither promised stability nor seemed particularly interested in chaos; and yet, here they both were, waiting, perhaps, to see where all of this eventually ended up.

Xanatos' release came first; his movements became all at once heavier, more pronounced, and then he shifted, grunted with his mouth agape, and spilled his seed inside of Obi-Wan's anus. Stomachs both heaving, the two men stared at one another; even in the throes of release, Xanatos' pale face did not so much as color in the cheeks, and Obi-Wan found himself a tad jealous of that knowledge. As for himself, he suspected that his every emotion was colored across his face like a youngling's red crayon masterpiece, though to his credit, Xanatos did not seem to mind. Still, the older man was yet something of a sadist. "Need something, Obi-Wan?" he murmured, watching (and feeling, for that matter) the Padawan squirm extraneously beneath him. Briefly, he considered pulling out and rolling to his side, but decided against it; instead, he simply reached down and grasped at Obi-Wan's still-erect cock, rubbing at the head, and then tugging gently from the base, and finally, fondling the sensitive flesh further down, covering the young man's ball sac, before beginning the process all over again. In particular, he noticed how Obi-Wan's breath hitched when he concentrated on the head; liberally, he wiped pre-come from the slit around the rest of the cockhead, coaxing more to come forth with a chivalrous thumb pad, until Obi-Wan finally, muscles shaking, eyes squeezed shut, repressing and yet riding the highest wave of feeling he felt comfortable latching onto - as opposed to his Force signature which, Xanatos thought idly, was positively beaming - threw his head back, opened his mouth, and yelped as he came, spurting against and along Xanatos' hand with a considerable lack of finesse. Still, the older man seemed more charmed by him than anything; extracting himself with a soft groan (Obi-Wan, too, let out a small cry as they were at last pulled apart), he petted the young man's face, trailing a hand down to wind Obi-Wan's long, thin Padawan braid across and around his knuckles a couple of times. "Okay?" he asked, and only then, up close like that, could Obi-Wan see how anxious the idea that it wasn't might make Xanatos; the older man's jaw was tight, and the faintest flush spread across his cheeks as he awaited confirmation that, in fact, nothing that had happened here was unwanted, for either party involved. 

Fortunately, the Padawan was eager to please, all things considered: "Yes," he murmured softly, sleepily, and it was only a matter of time after that before the dark blue bedding was being used to serve its primary purpose. "Sweet dreams, little Jedi." Xanatos' voice coaxed him down, down into the darkness, along with the warmth radiating from his bare form that pressed against Obi-Wan's now beneath the silky sheets, and even though it was not usually in his character to do so (except, once more, tonight, for some bizarre and perhaps never again reason), Obi-Wan felt himself welcome willingly the night's - and Xanatos' - firm embrace. Down, down, he crept ever further, until at last - far more quickly than was usual, because again, tonight was special, somehow - sleep claimed him, nestled as he was against the torso of his Master's sworn arch-enemy, Padawan braid, decorated with achievements bestowed upon him by none other than Qui-Gon Jinn himself, splayed lazily across Xanatos' alabaster chest. 

*

 

Both men slept fitfully; and yet, Obi-Wan, conditioned, and still currently practicing the art of getting up just before dawn to meditate, awoke first. He did not slip out unnoticed, however, nor did he go out of his way to bother Xanatos; and yet, when the older man awoke himself, it was not to a picturesque view of Obi-Wan in the midst of meditation or practicing a kata or something, as he had half-expected to see upon opening his eyes. Rather, even before wiping the last vestiges of sleep away, his brain was cognizant of the fact that there was someone touching him, down ... there?

"Obi-Wan." The older man's voice was somewhat fuzzy still, though it became clearer once he sat up and shifted whatever had settled in the back of his throat overnight with a couple of pointed coughs. Even so, after he'd cleared his throat and blinked a few times, the image of Qui-Gon Jinn's illustrious Padawan, splayed decadently on his belly, mouth and one hand curled along Xanatos' cock (which, of course, was erect, given that Xanatos had yet to get rid of his morning wood, or even to process yet that it was there to begin with), remained, and would probably be seared into his memory forever. "And here I thought Qui-Gon had taught you better manners," he smirked, and, oh, it should really be illegal to look that pretty with someone's dickhead sucked inside of one's mouth, he thought. "All this talk of proper consent the other night," he mused, then, "and you couldn't even ask permission before blowing me awake. It's quite rude of you, little Jedi."

Obi-Wan paused, eyes wide, mouth mischievous even as it remained focused on its task. "Would you like me to stop?" the Padawan asked politely, and then his head was shoved down by Xanatos' wide palm. The task did not take long. When it was over, Obi-Wan clamored smugly into Xanatos' arms, huddling under the covers anew, surprisingly content. "Didn't know you knew how to do that," Xanatos smirked.

Obi-Wan hmmed a little. "I thought I might have to try it last night to convince you to stay," he admitted, and Xanatos poked him in the chest. "Ow."

"Sorry." The ex-Jedi rubbed a little at the tiny red mark that his fingertip had made. "Though you must admit, you're probably just peeved that for once, someone is simply more stubborn about something than you." 

Obi-Wan frowned petulantly. "I'm not stubborn," he protested, and pouted a little. 

Laughing outright now, Xanatos leaned in, kissing the young man's nose, and then his puckered mouth. One quick meeting of lips eventually turned into a languid, almost sticky, make-out session, though this time, Obi-Wan did pull back after some time, albeit apologetically. "I really do need to go," he murmured, and Xanatos motioned at the door off to the side leading to the room's expansive, private luxury 'fresher. "Go clean yourself up first, I insist," he offered, and Obi-Wan thanked him and headed into the bathroom, grabbing up his personal particulars along the way, and then shutting and locking the door behind him. 

Once inside, he was somewhat surprised to see a notification on his commlink's tiny screen, indicating that Qui-Gon had tried to contact him sometime between last night and this morning. There was no message. Fearing the worst, he commed the other man back immediately, heart racing in his chest. If his dallying with Xanatos, of all people(!) had caused him to unavail himself to his Master's time of need, he thought ...

... but his worrying came to naught, at least in the sense that Qui-Gon might have been calling him while he was in trouble. "Obi-Wan, good morning," his Master greeted, and though Obi-Wan could not see him, he could hear the soft, plaintive, melodious tenor of Qui-Gon's voice. It was comforting, familiar, and put him immediately at ease; at the same time, however, an innocuous question such as, "How have you been?" made him feel like a huge bantha turd all over again. "I ran into a spot of trouble on Coronet the other night," he admitted honestly, "but was able to secure lodging and enjoyed myself nonetheless." 

"Well, good." Qui-Gon told him briefly of his own adventures on furlough, many of them involving scruffy locals - Qui-Gon had opted for a Mid-Rim planet with few amenities and lots of lush, yet unchartered wilderness, the perfect place for contemplating the Force and giving himself time to properly remember Tahl, naturally - and Obi-Wan laughed softly; then, checking his pocket chrono, he realized that he'd been occupying the 'fresher for quite a while already, and had come no closer to actually showering. "Master, I must go now," he told Qui-Gon, and there it was again, the guilt. "But I would enjoy hearing more of your adventures when we are together again."

"I would like that too, Obi-Wan." They said their goodbyes, and Obi-Wan hastily flung himself into the shower. Anxiety pooled in his stomach, and he stared at his toes, and then let the hot water rush over him, again, for longer than he technically needed to. When he finally exited the 'fresher, wet towel in hand, dressed in yesterday's outfit, complete with torn pants, he was embarrassed to see that Xanatos was no longer lounging casually in bed, but had donned a hotel-brand robe, and was sitting at the complimentary desk in the room, looking over some things on his datapad. "Nice shower?" he asked innocuously, and when Obi-Wan was only able to nod whilst averting his eyes, the older man cocked his head knowingly. "And how is Qui-Gon today?" he proffered. There was no malice in it, for once, but Obi-Wan's face flushed anyways. "Fine," he said softly. 

Xanatos seemed to know to drop it. "Well, good," he said simply, and then began firing off additional queries: "Do you have to meet your transport home anywhere?" he asked next, knowing full well that Jedi bartered for rides on freighters and things as often as possible. Ludicrously, Obi-Wan entertained a quick mental image of Xanatos dropping him off in front of the Temple in his private ship, even of the older man tugging him across the passenger seat to steal one last, quick kiss before watching him trot up the Temple steps, ever the dutiful Padawan. It was out of the question, of course, however, and so Obi-Wan simply nodded. "I can get there on my own, it's not far," he said quickly.

"Of course." Xanatos' legs were crossed at the knee, and he steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked. "I know a great little diner, though that would be slumming it for me. Or we could just order room service." When Obi-Wan shook his head, begging it off in favor of simply "needing to go home, now," the ex-Jedi could not help but sigh. Standing, he crossed the room in three elegant strides, stopping just in front of Obi-Wan, close enough for them to breathe on one another's faces if either had the inclination to. "Feeling guilty isn't going to make what happened go away, child." Xanatos' hands on his shoulders turned once more into another searing kiss, one Obi-Wan only reluctantly pulled away from. 

"I know." 

"Of course you do." With one last stroke down Obi-Wan's still-boyish face, Xanatos acquiesced to letting the young man go at last. "Well, goodbye then," he murmured, and Obi-Wan nodded and made his way to the door. He paused just before turning the knob, long enough to turn and see Xanatos still watching him. "Goodbye," he murmured, and tried not to feel as though he was leaving something important behind as the door closed again with him on the other side this time, shut out, on his way home again, and yet, not for the first time, as it happened, questioning precisely what that meant to him now. 

Lightsaber tapping lightly against his side, Obi-Wan took the stairs down to the lobby of the hotel, and, with a brief smile at the receptionist, made his way out into the cool mid-morning air of Coronet, back into the hum of busy civilization, and where the buzzing around him served as a decent enough deterrent from allowing confusing thoughts about Xanatos and Qui-Gon and where he fit, or didn't, between them percolate in his head like so much brain stew. He ended up passing the diner of which he presumed Xanatos was speaking, and hesitated, but then continued on his way, feeling relief course through him as he turned the corner and it disappeared from sight.


End file.
